BIOSHOCKED: The Lost Decade
by C. Mage
Summary: It's 1970, and ten years have passed since Mark and Elizabeth left Rapture with their family. They've returned to Rapture, drawn back to where it all began, and try to find a place to belong. As they recount their adventures over the past decade, they come to realize that Rapture faces a new enemy, one more insidious than Ryan or Fontaine ever were...
1. Chapter 1

BIOSHOCKED 2, Part 1: A Funny Thing Happened To Me On My Way To The Lighthouse…

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by C. Mage

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I know, I know, it's 1970 and you can't help but ask, what can happen in a decade?

Well, let me tell you, my friends: WORLDS can happen.

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When last you saw me and my family, it was Christmas, 1960 AD. We were in Paris, we were getting married, we were getting ready to live happily ever after, right? Well, problem is, things don't really happen that way...because the story for us didn't end there, and we've been through a few things, made a few discoveries. In March of 1963, Elizabeth and I discovered that something had happened to me in Rapture. I don't know if it was the plasmids or the travelling between worlds, or if it was some other factor I didn't know about. The bottom line was that after three years of trying to have children, I had a doctor tell me that I was sterile. I couldn't have children. Ever. Elizabeth still could...which sorta made it worse. There were a few long nights I've had about that, and it took a few more years to accept it. Eleanor and Sally helped, and it was gratifying to learn that even though I couldn't have children from my own genetics, I still had two wonderful daughters who grew up smart and beautiful and were going to grow up to be world-beaters someday.

In January of 1968, we lost Knuckles. Cancer. At first, we thought it was a parting shot from the ADAM plague, but a doctor confirmed that it had been always inside him. Having the ADAM Plague stopped the clock on it, but the cure ended up killing him. He lasted longer than the doctors thought; they said he had five months to live and he managed to last for a little over two years before that damned cancer chewed him up and spit him out.

In September of 1970, Sally and Eleanor grew up and went off to college. UCLA. Sally majored in Electrical Engineering and Eleanor majored in Genetics. Both of them had grades that earned them both scholarships with ease. We made sure they each had ham radios so we could stay in touch with them.

On November 8th, 1970, Elizabeth and I returned to Rapture. We settled affairs, made sure the girls were taken care of, and had their trust funds arranged in advance. We told people we were going on a world cruise, found a nice cheap boat, scuttled it after we got back to the lighthouse, and headed back down to where it all started. We didn't tell anyone we were coming, wanted to make sure we'd be able to see the truth of what was happening down there.

As we made the trip down, minus Ryan's stupid speech this time, Elizabeth turned to me. She wasn't as fresh-faced as the day we met; a few laugh-lines, the beginnings of crow's-feet, but she was still beautiful by any description...and she would always be in my eyes. Those wide blue eyes didn't seem as wide now. Too many years, too many hardships. "Are you all right with this?" she asked me.

"Yes. I mean, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's a little early for you to be suffering any memory loss just yet…"

I chuckled. "I remember what happened down there. Bad and good. And I wanted to come. We've had ten years to see the world...that and a few others. We've climbed mountains, swam in every sea there was, crossed deserts, visited lost cities, learned all kinds of things. If there's a place on this world we haven't explored somehow in some way, I'm hard-pressed to think of it."

I looked out the window. The lights were definitely on. "Looks like people are still home. Time to find out if we're going to be getting a warm reception...or a cold one."

"Look." Elizabeth pointed to where other bathyspheres were seen migrating between districts. "Doesn't look like this place is on lockdown. That's a good sign."

"It is...hey, there's the port for the Welcome Center."

A new, male voice could be heard on the Service Radio next to the doorway. "Bathysphere #42, this is Rapture Traffic Control. Identify yourself, please."

I couldn't help myself. "Mark and Elizabeth Jacobs. We just flew in from New York, and BOY, are our arms tired."

Silence for a few moments. "Say again? It sounded like you just said you were…"

"Mark and Elizabeth."

"...holy shit. Uhm, I mean, there will be a party waiting for you at the Welcome Center," the voice said quickly.

"Thank yew," I said with a smile, then I noticed Elizabeth smirking at me. "Yes?"

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

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As we rose and exited the bathysphere with our luggage, we saw people at the transit station, dressed in uniforms. They looked like the local constabulary, which was was a good sign. Or, depending on who was in charge, a bad one. "Excuse me, but could we get a skycap?" I asked nonchalantly.

The officers turned, then stared at me. Finally, one of them said, "Neptune's BALLS, it's THEM!" He ran over to us, holstering his weapon and bowing. "Welcome, Mark and Elizabeth! You're back!"

Elizabeth turned to look at me, that smirk was back. "And you were worried that they wouldn't be happy to see us."

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By the time someone else showed up, Elizabeth and I had time to take a good look around the transit station, and so far, things looked promising. The chamber was brightly lit, and the damage and leaks evident the first time I'd come through were gone. The place looked brand-new, as if the Rapture War never happened.

I turned as I saw three more bathyspheres surface. The first two contained people in civilian clothes, none of whom I recognized, but the third held three people I had no trouble recognizing. Julie Langford, Charles Milton Porter...and Sander Cohen. I could feel Elizabeth tense next to me as she saw Cohen. "Steady on, Elizabeth, it's been a decade," I whispered.

"I know," she whispered back, but the tension didn't go away.

"Well, well...shame on you, you never call, you never write…" Julie said, but she was smiling when she said it. "Welcome back to Rapture, you two. Just popped by for a visit, or did you two finally come to your senses and decide to stay?"

"Actually, Julie," Elizabeth said, "we came here to stay for a while."

"Excellent! Sander, is Ryan's old place in Olympus Heights still available?"

"As far as I know." His voice definitely sounded different than the old, imperious Sander Cohen I remembered.

"Julie, before you start rolling out the red carpet and giving us the key to the city," I interjected, "we want to be private citizens, with no special favors. We're not looking to be part of the upper class. Besides, let's face it, all we brought with us is what you see here."

"That's not entirely accurate." Milton was smiling gently. "Ever since you left, there's been many changes, but no one has forgotten the risks you took and what you endured for the sake of Rapture, so people have been donating a little here, a little there. After ten years of this, you've amassed quite a respectable fortune, one we've held in trust until your return."

"Really?" I turned to Elizabeth. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about making our first month's rent." I looked up as I saw Sander Cohen walking towards us. "Uh, yes?"

"I wanted to apologize for all the trouble I've caused. I've been undergoing therapy under Dr. Lamb, and she's helped me understand the sins I've committed. I know I can never atone for all the damage I've done, but I wanted to let you both know how truly sorry I am, and hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me someday."

THAT blew me right out of the water. I didn't think I'd ever hear those words from Sander Cohen, of all people. I nodded and offered my hand. "Sander, I forgive you."

He blinked, then turned to Elizabeth. She nodded, and added, "I...forgive you, too, Sander. You seem to be working hard to atone, and I know what it means to try to rebuild a life."

He smiled at that, then nodded as he stepped back to make way for Julie. "So, since it doesn't look like you're looking to join the idle rich, what sort of work did you have in mind?"

"We're hoping to see what's available."

"And how are the kids?"

I felt Elizabeth's eyes on me and I said calmly, "Could we continue this in private? There's a lot that's been going on."

Julie nodded and turned to two of the policemen. "Boys, help them with their luggage." The policemen jumped to the task readily. The looks on their faces suggested they thought it was some kind of honor or privilege to do so. "Come on. With your available funds, you could buy Ryan's property out of petty cash. Consider it ten years of back wages, including hazard pay...in SPADES."

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We got to Ryan's place, and it seemed bigger than I remembered. We sat down, our welcome party and us, and Elizabeth and I explained what had gone on in the past ten years. When they heard about me not being able to have kids, Julie, Milton and Sander were equally contrite. "Sorry to hear that, Mark. And I'm sorry for asking like that, I feel like an idiot."

"It's okay," I said, lying a little. "Besides, Sally and Eleanor have been wonderful children, and they've brought us a lot of joy." We continued on about our travels, some of the adventures we'd had. We then told them about the kind of exploring we'd done. "What happened to me in Columbia changed me, and Elizabeth has been helping me understand what it is I can do. I can see and open tears, and I have some sort of navigation-sense that helps me understand the places we can go, the things I can do. I haven't done much of that, baby steps, after all. But I'm hoping that I can use that to help out somehow. Also, there's the knowledge Elizabeth and I have, and she and I were thinking of opening up a detective agency."

"Hmm. That actually sounds like a good idea, considering how things have been going in Rapture."

"How ARE things in Rapture?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, after you left, I got picked as Leader Emeritus and we drew up a constitution and laws, basing it on the American government. We have a President, a City Court and a Council with representatives from each district. We drafted a police force, answerable to a Commissioner who acts under the guidance of the City Court. They maintain the peace. We keep the security measures in place, mostly the cameras, to make sure not only to police the citizens, but also to keep the police honest. Believe you me, we spent just over a year getting everything straight. The businesses have a ruling body, called the Corporate Council. They maintain proper business practices, even have their own civilian populations and their own security forces, take care of everything in-house, although they are still beholden to the City Police. God forbid they go back to where they were before, answerable only to themselves. It hasn't been perfect, though. There's still crime and wrongdoing, and Persephone is almost half-filled with criminals, not just the ones punished by the Great Trial of 1960. But there's still plenty of good people who appreciate what's been done here."

"Is Ryan still in prison?"

"Nope. He didn't last three years. Hung himself in his cell one day. He was pretty far gone by that point, spent some time in therapy, but he couldn't handle the idea that 'his' city would get along just fine without him and his 'Great Chain'. Made an interesting discovery. Turns out there are actually times when noisemakers and party favors are appropriate for a funeral."

"OUCH...that's a little harsh, don't you think?" I said, a little taken aback.

"Considering what he'd done, there are many who would disagree most strenuously," Milton said somberly.

"What about the others? Alexander, Sinclair?"

"Still in business, although they're not as rich as they used to be. They learned some time back that having to pay people a fair wage can really eat into one's profits. You two are probably worth more than them. However, they're still in the engineering business. Just because ADAM doesn't work on people any more doesn't mean they can't use it for developing other products. Alexander has gone heavily into medical research, where Sinclair has been cornering the marketing on electronics, computation devices and robotics. Enough of the smaller companies have been developing similar technologies to prevent a monopoly, and it's illegal in Rapture for larger companies to buy up smaller ones without the unanimous approval of the Corporate Council. We're doing our best to make sure this city isn't run by greed like it once was. Hey, speaking of Old Home Week, how's Brigid doing?"

"Oh, she opened a hospital in France, and all the girls who used to be Little Sisters now work for her as nurses and doctors. with a few exceptions who decided to go to college to work in other fields. She doesn't work with genetics anymore, except for a couple of gene therapy research projects, and she couldn't be happier."

"Now, you said that you've been experimenting with tears. What have you been doing with that?"

"Funny you should ask." Elizabeth was smiling. "The first adventure we had with that was on our honeymoon…"

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JANUARY 16, 1961

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I woke up the next afternoon, slowly looking over at where Elizabeth was snoozing. The sun was high and the room was quite warm, though I suspect it had a lot to do with what we were doing last night. We spent the night with slightly more experience than the last time...which also happened to be our first time...and found out more about the way our desires were wired. Couldn't believe some of the stuff she wanted to try...and found it harder to believe how arousing that stuff was.

Emphasis on the word, "harder".

She stirred, then opened her eyes slowly. "...mmmmmmmmmmmm…" Elizabeth said, stretching in a way that made me more alert than any coffee ever brewed, then settling back into my arms. "Good morning."

"Well, it is NOW." I smiled. God, six months ago, I never thought I'd ever be with a woman this amazing. And now, I couldn't think of life without her. "Knuckles has been watching the kids. Think we should rescue him?"

Elizabeth smiled and snuggled in. "Of course. In a minute."

"Elizabeth...I saw something when we went to the Eiffel Tower two days ago. A tear. Something that showed the Tower, but with Nazi swastikas hanging from it."

She sat up and looked at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I can't shake the feeling that it's something we should look into, at the very least."

Her face was solemn as she nodded. "Come on, get dressed. We've got a full day ahead of us….and after the children go to bed, we're going to have a full night, too."

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We spent the day at the Louvre, looking at all the different works of art. Elizabeth mentioned as we looked at Michaelangelo's "David", "You get the feeling that Mike may have had an attraction to the model for this?"

"Your mind goes to odd places sometimes, you know that?"

"Part of my charm," she replied, smiling winningly.

We continued through the Louvre, managed to make it through more of the massive museum than we expected. By the time we got home, Eleanor and Sally were tuckered out and we hustled them off to bed.

Then we got to work.

I put on a plain-looking suit, with obscure enough lines so it wouldn't stand out. Elizabeth wore a simple dress and coat with a furred hood, and I wore a fedora. We packed up our usual tools, her with her crossbow and packs of darts, and me with a revolver with a screw-on silencer, as well as a few other tools with adjustable settings, and two small radios, products of modern technology.

So prepared, we headed for the Eiffel Tower.

We chose to go in at night, to make it easier for us to keep from being spotted going through the tear and less likely to be spotted coming out on the other side. Our clothes were dark blue and black, making us even harder to see, and were also reversible, so we could provide a means of evading capture if we were followed.

We got to the location and there it was. "Can you see it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I can't. I lost that ability back when I was 'reborn' in Rapture."

"I can see it. Okay...tell me how to open it and how to get us through it."

"You need to focus on the tear. Think of it as parting a curtain; moving your hands through it. You'll know you're doing it right if you feel the resistance in the air, like a membrane. It'll give at first, but it'll quickly build resistance, until it'll require real strength to push aside."

I nodded. It took me over an hour to figure out what to concentrate on, but once I did, it became easier to move the tear, manipulate it. As I touched it, I felt the resistance, heard a slight buzzing in my ear that grew louder the more I tried to "push aside the curtain". She was right about the resistance, too…

And before I knew it, we were through.

It seemed darker somehow. We looked around, expecting to see checkpoints and armed guards, but there was nothing like that here. I turned quickly, suddenly worried, and found that I didn't need to be. Elizabeth was right there. "Wowsers…" I said. "It sure is a lot different than the last time."

"Come on. Let's see what the situation is."

"Lead on, Elizabeth."

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Dawn came all too quickly, and we kept ourselves busy walking, keeping an eye out for guards, patrols, and other signs of occupation. Apart from the flags and bilingual signs, there was nothing to suggest Nazi oppression.

We stopped off at a cafe, and Elizabeth had taken the precaution of making an exchange of francs for marks yesterday. As it turned out, they were good either way. In fact, they were surprisingly cheerful. This place was starting to seem less and less like enemy occupation. "Elizabeth?" I asked over croissants and cheese.

"Yes?" she asked, her expression calm, but her voice guarded.

"I think we need to look deeper."

She nodded. "Something is definitely off. Look at these people. Most people in a conquered country tend to look down, or stay off the streets. These people look forward, and seem actually happy, for the most part. The smiles and expressions don't look painted on."

"Right. Feel like checking out a few periodicals?"

"Love to….after breakfast. Walking around all night was tiring, and I may ask for more coffee. How are you doing?"

"Post-War France is much less stressful than Post-Civil War Rapture."

She nodded, then took another sip. She smiled slightly. "Oh, if I told you how much I appreciate this coffee, it'd be cold by the time I was done."

"Drink up. I want to stop by the Tower, make sure our exit route is still there."

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Passing by the Tower was a relief, I could still see the tear, plain as day, even though no one else could. We found the nearest library and went inside, keeping an eye out along the way.

The first thing we noticed was a notable lack of propaganda, the usual ads providing rewards for abhorrent behavior. Apart from some inspirational murals, showing the triumph of Nazi Germany, that was it. Second, the place was still filled with artists and painters, but the subject matter didn't seem political.

Once we got to the periodicals, though, things became a LOT clearer.

We poured through a few decades' worth of books and compared notes. In this reality, the Nazis weren't the main aggressors. The FRENCH were. We kept reading, finding out that the French had, under a very warlike Charles De Gaulle, expanded on a campaign of aggression that nearly swallowed up Europe. England, their first target, quickly fell under De Gaulle's surprise attacks, and with their resources, the French moved east, pretty much steamrollering anyone who got in their way, right until they got to Germany. The leader of the ruling party, Adolf Hitler, rallied the nearby countries to try and stop the French, While Stalin hung back, waiting for the French to blunt their swords on the French, Hitler petitioned the Americans for help. The Normandy Invasion did happen, but it was a more direct assault on the French High Command.

I stared at the words, checking with Elizabeth. "Is this on the level?"

"Seems to be. There's too much documentation for it all to be a lie."

"But how?"

She shrugged. "Variables and constants."

"UN-believeable. Here I was thinking that we'd be going in and rallying against the Nazis, only to find out that they're the Guys In The White Hats this time around."

"Eye-opening, isn't it?"

I stared at Elizabeth. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"No, but I knew there was a chance that it would."

My stare grew more pronounced. "WHY?" I said in a low, intense whisper, because, well, I WAS still in a library.

"One of the things I learned the hard way is that, when travelling through tears, you can't take realities for granted. You assumed that, because there were Nazis in France, that they were the enemy, the invaders and conquerors. That assumption could've resulted in a great deal of trouble, especially if you decided to become hostile, even though there was never any reason to be."

That got my attention. My imagination started pulling up all kinds of worst-case scenarios, or worse, hurting someone who was one of the Good Guys. It was sobering, to say the least. "I'm going to be getting all kinds of little lessons like this, aren't I?"

"Only if you insist on checking out tears." She smiled. "Come on. If we hurry, we can make it back in time for lunch."

I looked around at the books, wondering what other information lay within those books that would blow my mind. "Let's go."

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Julie sat back in her chair, looking at us. "Some adventure there, kids. Not many adventures like those come with morals to the stories."

"Yeah, and believe me, that wasn't the first time," I said simply.

"There's more?" Sander asked.

"Much more," Elizabeth said, but I could tell she was still reluctant to talk in front of Sander Cohen.

"You know...your adventures would make for good reading. You should consider documenting your adventures over the past ten years."

"Who'd believe them?" I said, thinking aloud.

"Mark, your readers just survived a genetic war in a city under the ocean. What's 'unbelievable' is not as unbelievable as you might think."

"But I'm no writer…"

"The Thinker can be programmed to act as a secretary, and electronically transfer your words to a form that can be easily edited, then printed. It's a new function I've been wanting to stress-test, and your experiences would provide an ideal experiment," Milton added with a smile.

I turned to Elizabeth. "What do you think, hon?"

"It might be interesting, at that." She nodded to me. "But we're co-writing this. You have a tendency to exaggerate, Mark."

"Everything I say is the complete, unvarnished truth!" I said indignantly.

"Everything?" Julie asked with a smirk on her face.

"Well, as an old western star once put it, 'give or take a lie or two'."

"That's what I thought." Julie looked at the clock. "Come on, it's getting late. We'll come by in the morning, I want to hear more about your adventures, and I'm sure you'll be getting some more visitors soon enough."

"Thanks," I said, wondering if I should be looking forward to it or not. After they left, I got up out of my chair, walking over to one of the windows and looking out at the sea. Elizabeth walked up next to me and I asked, "We did the right thing, coming back here, right?"

"It's really the best place, now. Sally and Eleanor, they were born here, but this place would've never been their home. They needed to see the sun, live their lives. But for us...this is where we belong. Always a city...always a lighthouse…" She stopped and I looked down at her to see her looking up at me. "Always a man. We're guardians now, Mark. We always have been. If Sally or Eleanor choose that path, we can't stop them, but we had to give them other choices."

"I know. It's just…hard sometimes to accept it."

"Let's get ready for bed, get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning. You always do."

She left my side, but I stood there for a few moments, looking at the city. Andrew Ryan had always called Rapture HIS city. Now...it felt like the city was mine. Not mine in the sense that I owned it, God forbid, but I felt like I belonged here more than I did topside. Not hard to figure out why; I'd bled and gone through more here in a month than I did in the years before I came here.

I made a couple of changes to the furniture layout and the room features, then I went to the desk nearby and sat down, writing up a list of things to do the next day, hoping that would help me feel tired. I barely got through five sentences before it worked its magic on me, and I went to bed, sliding in next to Elizabeth.

My last thought before falling asleep was, I was home.

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I woke up a few hours later, but not because I wanted to.

I didn't hear the attempts to hack the lock for the door, nor did I hear the door open or the footsteps coming up the stairs. What I did hear were the three men hitting the floor and coming face to face with the crossbow rig a few feet away, loaded with a gas bolt. While they were rendered unconscious, Elizabeth and I woke up as soon as we heard the racket, and I got out of bed, pistol in hand, and waited for the gas to dissipate. Ten years of going to new places in uncertain times taught us the value of coming up with our own means of enforcing home security. We didn't speak, didn't have to. We'd had a lot of practice knowing what to look for. I tossed her what I found on them as I start hogtying them, hands behind their back, tied to their ankles. There were three of them, so I made some improvised ball-gags and muffled them.

While I was doing that, Elizabeth had detached the crossbow from the trap and moved to the door, opening it just a crack to see if they had reinforcements. I tried to ignore the fact that the only thing she was wearing at the time was a stern expression and I was successful. Mostly.

"Clear," she said matter-of-factly, coming back to the nearby table where we'd dumped the contents of their pockets.

"Dear?" I asked.

"Yes?" she asked casually.

"Would you mind putting a robe on? You know how distracted I get when you're like that."

"Of course I know. Why do you think I keep doing it?" Now she was wearing just a smirk.

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By the time she'd come back, I'd arranged the contents out on the desk. There wasn't much to them; no IDs of any kind, a couple of knives, some bullets for reloading, but the only other contents was pocket lint. "Looks like someone in Rapture isn't very happy to see us. No IDs. If these bozos came up with the idea on their own, they wouldn't have needed to worry about being identified. Someone put them up to this."

"Wonderful. Any chance they just forgot their IDs at home?"

"Any chance we're that lucky?" I replied. She shook her head. "Yeah. Looks like we're not universally cherished here in Rapture. Any thoughts on who might be responsible?"

Elizabeth snorted, "The line for THAT forms at the left."

"There is one thing." I picked up one of the items, a pin with a blue butterfly on it. "One of them had this pinned to the inside of his jacket."

Elizabeth took the pin, turning it over in her fingers. "Might just be a decoration of some kind."

"If so, why was it on the INSIDE of his jacket?"

Elizabeth nodded. "That bothered me as well. And since the man brought it with him but didn't bring identification, it must be something of some significance to him."

I nodded. "Come on, let's get some sleep. The others are coming over tomorrow and setting up the connection to the Thinker. What story should we tell them next?"

"How about in chronological order?"

"Oh, we could tell it in any order we liked," she commented. "Could always edit it later."

"Oh, I think the Thinker won't be the only ones listening to us talk. Gotta be fair to our audience."

"Fair point. Come on, Mark, let's go back to bed."

"You go ahead. I've got to put these guys somewhere secure….and uncomfortable."

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When Julie, Milton and Sander returned, they walked in to find the three men trussed up by the door, bound and gagged. "What in the name of George Babbage…?" Milton asked, staring openly.

"Hello there." I looked up from where Elizabeth and I were enjoying some coffee. "I'd like to introduce you to the guys who came by unannounced earlier this morning. MUCH earlier."

Julie didn't waste any time, going to the phone and dialing. "Police desk? Send some men to the old Ryan residence. We've got a case of attempted assault, maybe attempted murder. Thank you." She hung up the phone and turned to us, shaking her head. "Making friends and influencing people again?"

"I'm getting the feeling we're not wanted here," I said dryly.

"Any idea who they are or who sent them?" Milton asked as he and three of his technicians started setting up the terminal to directly access the Thinker, along with the attachments.

"None," I said.

"But I have a feeling we'll find out soon enough," Elizabeth added. I couldn't help but agree.

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The woman saw her door open, one of her subordinates coming through. "The team did not succeed," he said simply. "Are there further orders?"

"No. They shall be off-balance, suspicious, unaware who they can trust." She smiled. "Let them fumble about in the dark a while longer, wonder when the next attack is, wonder where it will come from. We have time...and will achieve our goals in due course, and not before."

The man nodded, then left. The woman sat there in the dim light for a time, then looked over at an object that had been sitting on her desk for a very long time. An adjustable wrench, stained brown.

"Soon. Very soon...the WYK solution will be at hand."

.

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TO BE CONTINUED….


	2. Chapter 2

**BIOSHOCKED, The Lost Decade, Part II: Mexican Startoff**

By C. Mage

Let's see.

Return to Rapture? Check. With Elizabeth? Check. Rapture still here? Check.

Annoying people trying to cause physical and mental harm?

Sigh.

Check.

Elizabeth and I were clearly on someone's list and we hadn't been here a DAY. This was a concern. Even taking a walk through the new Rapture wasn't helping much. The city looked brand-new, no more trash or trace of damage sustained during the Rapture War. The lights were bright, and there were more children about in the common areas.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

One of the first places Julie took us to was the site of the old Ryan Amusements. The old ride and Rapture History exhibits had been given a serious upgrade, with the History section showing not only how Rapture first came to be, but also included the history of the War and what happened after...including my involvement.

I looked up at the images of me and Elizabeth, looking suitably heroic as we stood against the oncoming splicer horde, the ominous figure of Andrew Ryan in the background. "You know, I think someone's been gilding the lily a bit…"

"I think it's inspiring," she replied with a smirk on her lips.

"'Inspiring'? The only thing missing is the cape. I did not look like that, Elizabeth. And what is it with the HAIR?"

"Come on, you." She walked me over to the ride. Once, it contained a parade of scare tactics Ryan used to give children and parents alike nightmares about the surface. Now, it showed the people the perils of putting aside morals and ethics and depicting how the ADAM Plague came about, a cautionary tale for children and adults alike. "Interesting...not as flashy as Ryan's abomination, but not too shabby."

"It ain't Disneyland."

"You're moody today," Elizabeth observed dryly.

"I just can't help but wonder if there's going to be more of the same here. Trust me, you can put a lot of shine on a penny, but nobody will mistake it for a nickel. Too many unanswered questions."

"Then let's do what we always do in situations like this...get answers."

I sighed. She was right, and she was tactful enough not to remind me how often that was true. "Okay. Let's get out of here, head up to Fort Frolic. As I recall, there's some space waiting for us to rent."

"Thought you'd never ask." Elizabeth smiled at me, and once again, I found it much more difficult to remember why I was so down in the mouth.

"Lead the way."

* * *

After a very fruitful meeting with the landlord, we invited Julie, Milton and Sander over to the new place. We had champagne chilling by the time they arrived, and flutes all around. "Drink up, one and all, and welcome to the new home of Jacobs Investigations!"

"Yes, raise your glasses!" Elizabeth grinned and she stood next to me. "Don't worry, it's the good stuff. We brought this bottle down just for this day."

"Bollinger?" Sander took the bottle, holding it as if it were the Holy Grail. "As I live and breathe…"

"So, this mean you're not pursuing the life of an engineer?" Julie asked, savoring her sips.

"Yeah, that sorta went away the first time I came down here. No, I'm thinking that our talents are best suited towards helping people."

"'Our'? So Elizabeth will be working with you?"

I laughed at the thought of Elizabeth being stuck in some kitchen. "More like I'll be working with HER."

"Partners. EQUAL partners." Elizabeth nudged me with her elbow. "We've been working together for so long, Julie, that the only difference in how we do things are the titles."

"I certainly hope the work won't cut too deeply into your book writing." Milton smiled as a cart was brought in with a large wooden desk. "The terminal you'll need is built right into the desk, making it look more seamless. Don't worry, I gave you a discount on the parts and installation."

"Thanks, I guess. Our offices are right over here…"

A short installation and a bottle of champagne later, we were sitting around in what would be the office Elizabeth and I would be using. The terminal was going through its startup procedures, lines of letters and numbers streaming across the screen. "Nice work. You and the Thinker have been busy."

"Technology has taken a few quantum-leaps forward since you were here last. Communications, security, entertainment...the Thinker herself has been upgraded with some truly innovative technology."

"Like?"

Milton smiled broadly. "There was always the fear that we'd be discovered by sonar, but we developed a countermeasure six years ago. A scattered-field sonar denial system. It sends out a signal that, if a submarine scans the area using sonar, Rapture looks like a mountain range. Prevents sounds from Rapture from being heard, since sonic vibrations coming from the city are suppressed as well."

"Sounds pretty useful," I commented, impressed by the know-how needed to make such a device.

"We still hold drills for our subs from Neptune's Bounty, make sure they know where to go if a submarine is detected using passive sonar."

One of the technicians looked up. "We're connected to the network. You can initialize contact when ready."

I walked over to the chair and sat down. "Thinker, I'd like to test the Ghostwriting program."

"+Standing by for input.+"

I considered. "Hey, Elizabeth...what say I tell them about that time we went to Tenochtitlan, Mexico?"

Elizabeth nodded. "It's a long story…"

"We don't mind," Julie said, looking to the others. They nodded in agreement.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I'll get some food while you tell them about it."

"Thanks. Okay, it all started in May, 1964…"

* * *

MAY 5, 1964, 2:19 PM

"Is that the mail?" Elizabeth asked me from the kitchen.

"Yup." I walked past Knuckles as he read the newspaper. "Hey, let me have the sports section when you're done? Okay...bill...bill...grocery store account...huh. Hey, Elizabeth, you know a Gregory Harper?"

"The name's familiar...why?"

"Looks like he just sent us a package." I held up the box, shaking it momentarily.

"Wait, now I remember. Last November, we were checking out universities. Dr. Cooper was in charge of South American History. He specialized in the Mayans and the Incas." She walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel. "Wonder what he'd be sending us?"

"Only one way to find out. Scissors?" She handed them to me, having already anticipated my needs, like she was prone to do, then watched as I cut the strings and drew back the brown paper. A wooden box was revealed, slightly smaller and flatter than a shoebox. I opened the box to reveal something packed in cloth. "I feel like I'm opening up Russian dolls…"

"What is it?"

"I don't know...but it's heavy."

I pulled the last of the cloth away to reveal a golden metal disc with a hole in the center, with strange writing on the top and bottom, covering it from the center to the edge of the disc. "What...the heck?"

"Let me see." Elizabeth looked it over. "I think...yes, this is Mayan!"

"MAYAN? Wait...how do you even know what Mayan looks like?"

Elizabeth looked up at me. "I used to read a lot."

"OH...yeah, right. Do you know what it says?"

"No...but I think I know who does. We need to go to Cambridge. We need to talk to Dr. Hardy, from their Archaeology Department. He's the real expert on Mayan culture."

"Love? I missed the part where you told me where you knew this guy from."

"Oh, well...that's a long story."

"It's a long flight. I'll get the tickets and YOU can tell me all about the good doc." As she nodded and walked away, I caught sight of her face, and it was wearing the "how am I going to tell him THAT?" expression.

This was going to be a LONG flight.

* * *

The plane left at 1:18 PM, no layovers...which gave me more than enough time to have a little chat with my wife. "So, DEAR, who is Dr. Hardy?"

"It's a…"

"...long story, yes, we've covered that."

She sighed. "I knew him before I came to Rapture. When I came looking for Comstock here, I didn't know where he was, but the trail led to Cambridge. I investigated the college and found out Comstock had been close to some of the faculty there, and had worked as an instructor."

"For what subject?"

"...ethics."

I sat there in stunned amazement. "REALLY? What was at the top of the syllabus, 'Don't do anything I would do'?"

"I hardly think so. Mark."

"What was he...no, wait, getting off track. Dr. Hardy?"

"I...had to get close to Dr. Hardy to find out what he knew. Comstock had persuaded Dr. Hardy to cover for him while Comstock was trying to chase down how to get to Rapture."

"I thought so, too, until I got to Rapture and did some digging. He ended up at Rapture, but only by being smuggled in by Fontaine. He originally came through a tear in North Carolina…"

"And knew about Rapture through Fink, so he tried to figure out how to get from one place to the other. But how did Dr. Hardy figure into all of this?"

"Dr. Hardy was...involved in smuggling artifacts from different places. He had contacts in different countries, and fenced the artifacts through museums as well as private collectors."

"Huh. Weird, the idea of some archaeology professor actually getting involved in hunting artifacts and smuggling."

"Actually, there is a precedent or two." Elizabeth smiled. "There were even movies made from the concept." She had that "I know something you don't" look on her face. I've seen it far too many times not to recognize it instantly.

"And just HOW close did you get to Hardy?"

The smug smile vanished, replaced by embarrassment. "Well...keep in mind that I hadn't met you yet, and I was a little driven then…"

"THAT close." I sighed.

"Mark, he meant nothing to me, I only seduced him for…"

"Elizabeth? It's okay. We both didn't materialize out of thin air when we got to Rapture. We've had lives and histories. I'm not going to hold that against you."

"Oh…..whew…!"

"The question is, how are we going to play this? Are you going to try to vamp him again? Because if you're going to do that, I don't want to be in the same room."

"No, it's not going to be like that. In fact, I can't."

"Good. Because it's over between you two?"

"Not exactly. You see, I did blackmail him to get what I needed for Comstock, but not with information about our...affair."

"I don't get it."

"To get him to give up Comstock, I threatened him with revealing something else. He wasn't that interested in me, despite his efforts."

"Oh, so you weren't his type?"

"You could say that...actually, it would've been safer to say that _you_ were more his type."

"Oh…OHHHH." Light dawns. "Well, then...how should we play this?"

"Easily. YOU should 'vamp' him."

"HEY…!"

"What, do you think _I_ should be jealous of you, flirting with another man?"

"You know I'd never go for anyone but…" And realization hit me again. "All right. MAYBE I had that coming."

"Good."

"But you should've told me about him, nonetheless."

Elizabeth sighed. "MAYBE...but I had some trouble about how to bring it up in conversation. 'Mark, dear, before I met you, I tried to seduce a homosexual'? They don't exactly make greeting cards for that."

"Look, let's just get some rest, try to enjoy the in-flight meal and we'll work out what to do next when we're over Massachusetts, okay?"

"All right. Besides, I think people are starting to stare."

"They're just doing that because you're beautiful and they're men."

"Are you sure it's ME they're staring at?" She smiled and reclined in her seat.

I had no idea how to answer that, so I did the same.

* * *

Apart from a little altercation at the airport, our flight was smooth and uneventful. We got out of the airport with our luggage to find a cab. I sorted out the bags, making sure the one with the artifact wasn't opened, while Elizabeth hailed a cab. When one showed up, she turned back to let me she'd gotten us a ride when some self-important idiot in a really expensive suit tried to take the cab from us.

Elizabeth, of course, had been outside Rapture long enough not to take this lying down. She reached in, grabbed his briefcase and pulled it out of the cab, He looked up in shock, as if there would never be consequences for that kind of behavior, and got out of the car. "Hey!" He turned to me and said the words that sealed his fate. "Tell your girl to BEHAVE herself!"

I sighed and shook my head. "Elizabeth, honey, please don't kill him? We're kind of in a hurry."

"I'm not going to hurt him at all. But I have the feeling the contents of THIIS are important to you. Get out of our cab, or this goes into traffic."

"NO!" He got out of the cab and made a grab for it, but Elizabeth nimbly stepped away, as if twirling on a dance floor.

"You want it? Go get it." Elizabeth smiled and tossed the briefcase over the cab onto the road. "Better hurry. Rush hour's due." The businessman gasped and ran towards the street, watching as cars roared over the briefcase. "Come along, dear."

"You know, that was really fun to watch," I commented proudly.

"Am I off the hook about Dr. Hardy?"

I gave her a dry chuckle. "We'll discuss it AFTER you talk to him."

Elizabeth frowned. "Phooey."

* * *

"Nice campus...been a while since I've been to University. Oh, if my old teachers could see me now." I laughed bitterly. "Where's the Archaeology Department?"

"This way, unless they changed locations."

"Nahh. These guys are sticklers for tradition. They wouldn't change buildings unless a meteor hit it."

Elizabeth shuddered. "May we stop discussing meteors and meteorites? As you recall, we didn't exactly have a wonderful experience with the LAST one."

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."

"Here we are. Now, promise me that you're not going to make this awkward?"

"I promise." I knocked on Dr. Hardy's door. "Dr. Hardy? Can we come in?" Silence. "Guess he's not in." I tried the door, finding it unlocked. "Huh…"

We entered a room that looked more like the aftermath of a comprehensive lesson about tornadoes. "Is Dr. Hardy normally this messy?"

"No." Any trace of uncertainty in her demeanor had evaporated. "Look around."

"Already on it. Check the files, I'll check the desk." As I went over, it didn't take me long to find something. "Elizabeth, remember when I said I thought we hasn't in?"

"Yes?" she asked as she turned towards me.

"Thinking I was partly wrong...and partly right. I got a body over here...is this him?"

Elizabeth moved fast, looking down at the body of a man in his early thirties, with auburn hair, mustache and beard, dressed in a white coat over casual clothes. "No...that's Herbert, his assistant."

"Look at the bruising here…" I opened his shirt to reveal more bruising. "Either he's Jack Dempsey's sparring partner on a bad day, or someone wanted information from Herbert really bad. And if that's the assistant...where's Hardy?"

"Let's keep looking. There has to be something here that can tell us why Herbert was being beaten up."

"On it." I started looking at the documents and books on the desk. "There's a lot of maps here of the Yucatan. Any idea why?"

"The Mayans' civilization flourished there. Well, they did until the civilization collapsed on itself, leaving them vulnerable to the Spanish Conquistadors."

"Weren't they the guys who did all those human sacrifices all the time?"

"No. They only did human sacrifices on special occasions."

"Oh, well, that's much less horrifying. Hey...there's some pages ripped out of this really old book here...there's no title, just some marks on the front and spine. But the pages are written in a weird kind of English."

"Let me see." She looked it over. "You didn't learn Latin in school?"

"Latin isn't something mechanical engineers run into an awful lot."

"You had a sheltered education," Elizabeth said with a smirk. I got that little twinge again, you know the one, the one I always get when I find out I'm the dumbest guy in the room, but I've gotten really good at not letting people see when it bothers me. Years of practice. "It talks about an expedition led by a Conquistador named Domingues, Carlos Domingues III."

"Sounds so prestigious. What's his story?"

"Like most Spanish conquerors, he was obsessed with tales of El Dorado. Cities of gold and untold wealth. So much so that he abandoned his duties and took his men out into the jungles of the Yucatan, never to be seen again. At least, that's the story. Dr. Hardy was convinced that Domingues found one of the lost Mayan city-states."

"Lost? How do you lose something like that?"

"Keep in mind that there was a lot of hostility in those times. The Mayans didn't exist on economic leadership, they were solely invested in the rulers themselves and the dynasties they were a part of, and they suffered as a result. When the kings fell, they took their people with them."

"Hang on...there's something under the desk." I moved the desk to the side and checked the wooden floor, using my Swiss Army knife to probe the cracks.

"What is it?"

"Dust settling...here." I pried up one of the floorboards easily, coming away in a section. I removed other hardwood floor pieces to reveal a floor safe. "Bingo…wait...dammit."

"What?"

"It's opened. Completely cleaned out. Not so much as a postage stamp." Examining it made me curious. "Something's off about this. If they were tearing this place apart, they wouldn't be quite so patient enough to try to crack the safe's combination. This is a Penley safe, and they're not easy to open that way."

"Maybe they blew the safe?"

"Nope. Completely unmarked, and no smell."

"Wait….how do you know about Penley safes?"

"You're not the only one who's read a book or two." I smiled.

"Perhaps Herbert gave them the combination."

"Maybe. Wait a minute. If somebody kidnapped Dr. Hardy, they needed him for something. What was his big project? Was it that city-state?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"There may be a way to find out."

Uh-oh. "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

Elizabeth smiled at me. "I think so."

I started looking around. "You realize how unreliable this could be. Opening a tear brings us to an alternate place, and you know details might get mixed up."

"It's still worth a shot. Besides, we just need generalities, not specifics."

"All right, but find a spot to hide and get your weapon out. I don't want a repeat of what happened at 221B Baker Street."

"Right."

As she moved behind a bookcase, I reached out, counted ten, then opened the tear, revealing the same desk and office space, but showing in black and white and everything looked pristine. "All clear, HURRY!"

Elizabeth ran in and starting checking the desk, moving fast. I could already feel the first twinge in the base of my spine. She moved books around. checking her watch as I held the tear open. The twinge was at the base of my skull when she ran out of the tear. "DONE!"

I let the tear collapse, a ringing in my ears. My knees were Jell-O. I collapsed as I saw spots dancing in front of my eyes. "Somebody...got the license plate number...of that rockslide…?"

"Mark?!" Elizabeth kneeled next to me. "You're going to be okay."

"No...no I'm not. Not for a few hours, at least. They're getting rougher, Elizabeth. You could handle because it happened to you when you were a baby...it's only been a couple of years for me. My body can't handle it like you could."

"I'm sorry, Mark...I shouldn't have pressured you…"

"Hey, nobody twisted my arms...I underestimated how hard it would be and how much it would hurt, that's all." I pulled myself to my feet. "Tell me it wasn't for nothing."

"I have a name and a place. Tenochtitlan, Jeremy Price."

"Looks like we're heading back to the airport...and we're dressing for warm weather."

"I hope you brought a few good books," Elizabeth added as we left the office.

"I hang out with you, lover. I ALWAYS bring a few good books. The real challenge is finding books you haven't read yet." I chuckled, trying not to show how much my head hurt.

She could tell, though. She always could. "We should take the train, instead. You won't be much help if the altitude causes you more harm."

"...fine. But it better be an express train. Time ain't exactly on our side."

* * *

I stopped, looking at the others. "Sorry, you'll have to come back tomorrow for more. It's getting late." The resounding disappointed "AWWWW!" that came next brought a smile to my face. "I promise, there will be more later."

"I applaud your use of a cliffhanger, Mr. Jacobs, and regret it in the same breath."

"Coming from you, Mr. Cohen, I'll take that as a compliment. Good night." I smiled as they left, saying our goodbyes, then closed the door and turned to Elizabeth. "Our first party in Rapture."

"A rousing success. Shall we head on home?"

"Actually...why not spend the night here? I'me sure there's a mattress here somewhere in all this clutter."

"Mark Jacobs, are you suggesting that we sleep together in our office, amidst all this clutter and chaos?"

"Wow, and you didn't even need your other two guesses. Well?"

She smiled teasingly at me. "Never had sex in a detective's office bere."

"Yes, we did. Chicago, that tear we went through in '62?"

"All right, never had sex in a detective's office we owned before."

"Glad we got that straightened out. I'll get the blankets."

"And I'll get that little purple number you like so much."

"...I'll be back in five minutes!"

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	3. Chapter 3

**BIOSHOCKED, The Lost Decade, Part III: Back In The Game**

.

 **By C. Mage**

.

.

We woke up groggily. My arms hurt, I had a stiff neck and I smelled like stale sex. Completely worth it.

After Elizabeth and I got ourselves cleaned up and presentable, not to mention aired out the place fully, we set up the shingle and turned on the lights. Jacobs Private Investigators was now open for business.

Two hours later, door hadn't opened once. Well, once when I went out to get coffee, but that was it.

Elizabeth sighed. "Maybe we should post some flyers?"

"Beginning to think that we intimidate them or something." I sighed. "So much for our banner first case."

And that's when SHE walked in.

She was dressed in red, with a fashionable hat, wide brim, same color as her dress. Great set of legs, open-toed stilettos, I looked up at her and I knew she was hell on high heels.

Elizabeth looked up at her and smiled. "My, but don't you look dressed to kill, Dr. Langford."

"Got a hot date tonight, wanted to show it off a little, come by and see how you were doing." She looked around. "Any cases?"

"None. But I could continue with the story, if you like. Not much else to do."

"Works for me. Give me a few to change and I'll be right back. I don't want to look like I actually spent hours wearing this dress before the date."

* * *

We arrived in Mexico City and set about finding someone who could get us to the Yucatan and guide us through it. Hopefully, in our investigations, we might find out if any other guides were hired for the same purpose.

So first, we had to make contact with Don Luis de la Santoro.

Don Luis was many things: a connoisseur of wine, a man of deeply-held beliefs in God and family, a respected businessman here and across the border and known far and wide as a man of culture and distinction. What he wasn't known for was being one of the primary smugglers of pork, beef and medicine to Rapture, for which he was paid considerably. He was extremely connected in Mexico as a smuggler, so we decided to pay him a little visit.

His home was a massive Spanish villa, surrounded by a vineyard and some farmland to boot. He had stables for horses, something else he collected in addition to art and luxuries. "Nice place," Elizabeth noted. "Think he'll be glad to see us?"

"He better be. The shipments for Rapture alone probably paid for all this."

We stopped the car at the gate and pressed the buzzer for the intercom. "Excuse me, but we're here to see Don Luis."

A belligerent male voice came on the line. "Don Luis is not expecting visitors. Who are you?"

"Just tell him that the North Atlantic accountants are here to see him." I smiled. "And if you want to know how it feels to kicked out through this gate, please, take your time and keep us waiting."

The voice didn't reply. Elizabeth turned to me and asked idly, "So...how long do you think it'll take for him to…?"

The intercom came on again, and this time, it was greatly subdued. "Names, please?"

"Mark and Elizabeth Jacobs."

"YES, sir, please wait while I open the gate for you. I hope you'll pardon my previous behavior."

"Well, it's your job to be suspicious, so no harm done...as long as such treatment towards us doesn't repeat."

The gate opened and Elizabeth grinned. "How does it feel to throw your weight around?"

"We're in a race to find out what's happening with Dr. Hardy. Not going to mince words or be overly patient, you know."

"Of course...but you did enjoy it, didn't you?"

"Like candy at Christmas."

* * *

"Senor Jacobs! Senora Jacobs! Please, sit down." Don Luis welcomed us in and gestured to a pair of leather-upholstered chairs. "My humblest apologies for your sorry treatment at the gate!"

"Think nothing of it, Don Luis." Elizabeth smiled. "You are to be commended for having such dutiful and aware guards protecting it. Our arrival was unexpected, at best, and we understand completely." Yep. Elizabeth was as sly as ever. By turning the insult into a compliment, Don Luis would be more amenable to doing his best to help us.

"You are, as always, far too gracious. I thank you." Don Luis sat down behind his rather large desk. "What brings you to my humble home."

Yeah, "humble". Ozymandius would be jealous. "We need your assistance," I said simply. "Something's happened to one of our acquaintances, one Dr. Hardy. We believe that the ones responsible are using him to find a lost city in the Yucatan, and we are concerned that once his assistance is no longer needed, he'll end up a permanent member of the city. We need a guide that will help us."

Don Luis nodded. "Many have come looking for such places. I know all too well, since my bloodline comes from the Mayans."

"Really?" I was surprised; I thought I knew everything abouot Don Luis. Time to check for veracity. "Then maybe you can help us. How's your Mayan dialect?"

He smiled. "More than adequate."

"Then perhaps you can help us with this." Elizabeth took out the artifact and showed it to Don Luis. "If you can give us more infor…!"

"MADRE DE DIOS!" He got up quickly, pushing the chair he was sitting in backwards, tipping it over. "WHERE...WHERE did you get that?!" he demanded, crossing himself three times.

Elizabeth looked down at it as I said, "So, you know what this is."

"It is the Horn of Buluc Chabtan!"

"...and for those of us who aren't familiar with Mayan pantheons?"

"He's the god of gratuitous violence," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.

"The Mayans worshipped someone who personified gratuitous violence, because there's no way THAT could go horribly wrong…" I shook my head. "Really?"

"Indeed. It was said that if someone dropped dead for no apparent reason, it was the work of Buluc Chabtan." Don Luis looked pale. "Whoever your Dr. Hardy are with, they are truly dangerous men. They wish to harness the power of this god."

"WHY?" I asked, finding this hard to follow.

"If you can kill someone, it means you have power over them. These people want that kind of power."

"How could they get that, any more than what they could do by walking up to someone and shooting them?"

Don Luis sat down. "Before the Spanish came, the culture was already in its decline. There are legends and rumors about a city devoted to this evil god, Chikatla. The ruler of this city was the self-professed god-king Mecalatl. Visitors to this city talked about how magnificent and prosperous it was, but behind the smiles and bright colors were a dark following, warriors dedicated to murder for its own sake. As long as you were a citizen of that city, you were safe. But, venture outside the city or come to the city as a citizen from somewhere else...many simply vanished. There one moment, gone the next. When Chikatla was decimated by Spanish guns, they found a vast underground city underneath the one everyone else saw. A city of blood and death. Hills of bones. The floors, walls and ceilings caked with blood. There were even whispers of cannibalism." Don Luis spat. "They got what they deserved. Mecalatl was never found, but there were rumors that, at the center of the underground city was a weapon presented to the king by the god himself. A weapon capable of mass murder that was equal to the Bomb." Don Luis shook his head. ""With a weapon like that, he could hold the world for ransom."

"I'm afraid the situation is much worse," Elizabeth said grimly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

"What if whoever wants this weapon wants to use it...but doesn't want to take the credit for it?"

"That's stupid, I mean, who else would have a...weapon of mass destruction. OH boy…"

"Exactly. Use the weapon in the right place and both the United States and Russia would blame each other for using such a weapon. It could lead to a nuclear war. Imagine how that would make Bulun feel."

"But this god doesn't even exist...right?" I was starting to get a bad feeling deep in my gut.

"That would be small comfort to those dying by the billions. And even if it's not true, it's enough that the person responsible believes that it will enough to take other lives doing so." Elizabeth was considerably worried; it showed on her face as if there was a glowing neon sign lighting it. "Most Mayan rituals involve blood. For small rites, animal blood was usually sufficient. But for something this big…"

"Yeah, I get it, mass murder for the Mayan butcher god. We better get moving. Don Luis, we need someone to guide us where we need to go. I can offer…"

"Your money is no good here, Senor Jacobs. I know just the person to help you, and I will cover all expenses."

"Really? This could get expensive, and we're not without resources ourselves…"

"No." Don Luis was adamant. "I am one of the last of my people, Senor. I will not allow the word 'Mayan' associated with something like this. You would be doing me a great honor if you made sure this catastrophe doesn't take place…"

* * *

I stopped the story as I heard a jingle at the door. Elizabeth and I turned to each other with a smile. Our first customer! "Julie, gotta pause the story for now. Business before pleasure."

"Oh, FINE. But I'm coming back for the rest of this story. That's a promise." Julie got to her high-heeled feet and strode out, but as she got to the door and opened it, she turned back and said, "Thanks for your help, Mr. Jacobs. You're worth every penny." And with that, she was gone.

The gentleman standing in our lobby stared at the door, then turned to the both of us. "Was THAT...Dr. Langford?"

Before I could answer, Elizabeth said in her best professional tone, "Dr. Langford is always quite satisfied with our work. So, how can we help you, Mr…?"

"Steinmetz. Joseph Steinmetz."

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Steinmetz." I put on my most charming smile. "Tell us what we can do to help you."

"It's my sister...she's gone missing." Steinmetz sat down, looking unsettled. "Her name's Donna. She's just turned eighteen."

"Do you have a photo?" Steinmetz nodded, reaching into his jacket and taking out a small photo of a dark-haired girl, rather pretty. "Tell us what happened."

"Donna was taking a trip to Porter University. She'd just been accepted there with a full scholarship, and they'd invited her to tour the grounds. After that, nothing. It's not like her to cut off contact."

"How long has she been missing?"

"That's just it. She's not missing. She's at the University, but she won't see me. It's like she's a stranger."

"And she hasn't been like that before?"

Steinmetz shook his head. "We've been thick as thieves since we were children."

"What did she say the last time you saw her?"

"She told me…" His breath hitched slightly. "She told me that she didn't know who I was, and that I wasn't her brother. You have to get her back, you just HAVE to."

"We'll do everything we help. Do you know what dormitory she's in?"

"No. When I asked at the woman's dorm, they wouldn't tell me."

"And when did this happen?"

"Almost two weeks ago."

"How was your relationship before she accepted? Were there any fights, disagreements?"

"None! We were both happy for her."

"What about your parents?"

"Died three years ago. Bathysphere mechanical failure with the carbon dioxide scrubbers…" He broked down and covered his eyes. I turned to Elizabeth as she came over and put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"It's all right...don't worry. As our client, we'll do everything you can to help make everything all right."

He nodded. "My parents left me money, so I can pay you, so I'll pay anything…!"

"Don't worry. Our usual rates are $100 a day, three day minimum, plus expenses. Is that reasonable?" I asked gently.

"Of course, of course, whatever you like…." He took out a wallet and counted out three one-hundred dollar notes. Elizabeth took the money and looked at me with a slight smile. "Is there anything else you can tell us about her that would help us make contact with her, something only you would know?"

"Uhm….well, when we we kids, she would call me Jojo and I would call her Dodo."

"Good. If she's being kept against her will, it'll help her to trust us."

He nodded, standing up and shaking my hand. "Thank you...you have no idea how much this means to me, Mr. Jacobs, Mrs. Jacobs." He nodded and shuffled out of the door, wiping his eyes. We watched him, then nodded to each other and headed for the back room.

Once we were out of sight, Elizabeth turned to me. "You saw the happy little couple watching us through the storefront windows?"

"Yeah, sat down about ten minutes before our new client showed. How much of that story did you buy?"

"Enough to take his money. He had five other hundreds in his wallet, crisp and new. Check the bills." She handed them to me.

I looked them over. "Paper's good, but check out the serial numbers. Consecutive." I looked at Elizabeth. "You realize of course, that this is probably a setup, right?"

Elizabeth nodded...then broke into a slow smile, one to match my own. "This is FANTASTIC! Someone's trying to do us possible bodily harm."

"I know...I knew coming back here was a good idea."

"You do have them from time to time. So, let's see if we can't have a little chat with Donna and see what she knows...after doing a little more research on her and her brother. Just to get the lay of the land."

"Agreed. Now, let's have a little chat with the Thinker, first…I'll stay up front in case any other cases come our way." I went back to the front desk and sat down while Elizabeth put on her coat and hat.

"I'll be back after I've checked in with Julie...I've got a feeling she's got more to tell us, and I need to talk with her where there aren't so many ears and eyes."

"Good thinking. I'll sit here in the crosshairs for a little while longer." I smiled to her. "Be careful," I added, knowing she would.

"You too." The bell jingled as she left.

* * *

It's nice to have the Thinker on your side.

I wasn't sure about what benefits the Thinker could provide, but it's fast becoming the most effective assistance a private eye could have. I pulled up a great deal of information and the Thinker taught me a new term: "cross-referencing". It enabled the Thinker to look for certain facts and match them up with several different sources. Handy and fast.

The first thing I checked was our client's story. The Thinker confirmed that the client's name was real, as well as the sister's name, her scholastic record, the parents' deaths. The school didn't show that she was registered, so that seemed suspicious. On the whole, looked legitimate. Straightforward.

I didn't buy it, so I dug deeper.

The Thinker was a useful tool, but it couldn't do my thinking for me. It could only look for what it was told to, and I changed tactics. I checked to see if the Thinker could multitask, so I had it run two searches, the first for any other links between the client and his sister, above the norm for family expectations, and another search for anything involving blue butterflies.

What I got was a certifiable Hail Mary.

The Thinker came up with a connection, fast, between all three. Seems that the client and his sister went to see Dr. Sofia Lamb for treatment after their parents died. "Treatment for emotional trauma." And Dr. Lamb was Eleanor's mother. Well, Dr. Lamb gave birth to her. By her own words, her part in Eleanor's conception was treated as if it was a medical procedure and nothing more. Dr. Lamb had such high hopes for using Eleanor to achieve something, though we never realized what it was. The only thing we knew about Dr. Lamb's plans was that it somehow involved the use of ADAM.

And then the Cure came along and submarined those plans.

Learned a few other things as well. Dr. Lamb was quite the author, having written a book on psychiatry called UNITY AND METAMORPHOSIS. The subject matter was about "the triage imperative" and the idea of finding a utopia and promoting "the greater good". But what really got my attention was the cover of the book. Nice lettering, leather cover...big butterfly on the front.

Not exactly a smoking gun, but definitely worth something to look at. And Dr. Lamb, despite her philosophic tendencies, makes a point for one hell of a motive. Made big plans for her daughter, who gets adopted by the couple that ruined her plans by curing the ADAM Plague.

That had to sting a tad.

I made sure the Thinker knew to hide my inquiries from anyone else and to erase the traces of the information I sought, replacing it with incidental information to cover my tracks. I knew Milton wasn't the only computer genius in Rapture, and if Lamb had her fingers anywhere near Minerva's Den…

Done. More information's coming in. More people in power, patients of Dr. Lamb. She's been busy the last ten years. Ten years buys a lot of means to harbor and build on a grudge.

Now, looking objectively, it could be that Dr. Lamb could actually be helping these people. Giving them treatment for their ills and helping them to heal their minds.

Or she's building a power bloc to either take revenge on me or take over Rapture.

Choices, choices, choices.

* * *

ELIZABETH JACOBS

"Hello, Milton. I hope I'm not taking you away from anything critical."

"Not at all. Please, have a seat. So, what brings you by today?"

I sat down and smoothed my skirt over my legs. "I want to ask you something in confidence. I want to plan a surprise party for my Mark, but I don't want him to find out. Can you ensure privacy, even from the Thinker?"

"Ah. Of course." He smiled, pressing a set of buttons. Metal shutters closed over the windows, the door locked and the terminal on his desk shut down. "There. Complete privacy. Now about that surprise…"

"I'm afraid there's much more to it than that." I took out the blue butterfly pin and put it on his desk. "What do you know about this?"

He frowned instantly. No hesitation. "Sofia Lamb," he said, as if spitting on the ground.

"You're not a fan of her work?"

"She once tried to ply her philosophies to me, suggested the idea that Minerva's Den, and the people that worked there, would benefit from her guidance, considering the stress of working in Rapture, under the sea, away from the light of day. I suggested to her that if she didn't want to see the lights go out, the bathyspheres to lose contact with the control systems or the air to stop cycling, that she and her people should stay out of Minerva's Den. I do not allow her kind of thinking in here."

"And what kind of thinking is that?"

"She took an extraordinary amount of interest in Suchong's work after you left. She also wanted to know about the work Tenenbaum was doing in programming the Little Sisters and the Big Daddies. When you talked about the man that brought you here, she became obsessed. Why, I can't be sure, but I suspected that, as a psychiatrist, that information about ways to cause the mind to accept certain behaviors appealed to her. If she is interested in such things, she's walking a very dangerous path. Research into any technology or pharmaceutical process that enables mind control or behavioral control carries the death penalty in Rapture. Dr. Lamb is being observed, since her practice flirts with that concept, by the police and the Council."

"It's that bad?"

"There is suspicion that she's getting help from someone, but not even the Thinker has figured out how that could be done." He sat back in his chair. "Normally, I like mysteries...but this one's the exception."

"Would you consider the option of hiring us to look into it?"

Milton considered. "It would have to be off the books, which means I can't pay you until the job is done."

"Don't worry. We do have a bit of savings." I leaned forward. "And our interests are aligned."

"Done. Now, we better ACTUALLY come up with a surprise party for Mark, or else it'll look suspicious."

"Way ahead of you." I pulled out the lists I made earlier. "Here's who we should invite, here's who we should look into catering, here's a list of possible sources of entertainment…" I grinned. "NO masquerade parties."

The sigh of his relief at that was so emphatic, I was worried someone outside might actually hear it, despite the thick walls and shutters.

* * *

MARK JACOBS

I thought it was high time for what I needed to do next.

I looked up the good doctor and found out she was working out of an office in Apollo Square. Tactically a good move. Her philosophies appealed to the common man, and after their faith in Ryan had been betrayed, the people were eager to look for something else to believe in. I read her book, found it a little easy to follow, despite the psychiatric jargon. Lamb proposed a philosophy of a denial of the "self" to contribute towards the "body". While, in the broad strokes, I did think she had more than a few good points, reading deeper revealed more disturbing concepts. Lamb suggested that free will was one of the main causes of strife, and the only means to truly contribute to the common good was to give it automatically, but unconscious compulsion, to prevent free will from preventing it.

Starting to understand why she had such an interest in the mental programming used by Ryan and Suchong. Fontaine probably had his guy wired to the gills to make him do whatever Fontaine wanted him to do.

The whole idea made me sick. So I guess it's a good thing I'm going to see a doctor, huh?

I strode in, which didn't make the receptionist happy as I went straight from the door towards the offices in the back. "Do you have an appointment?" she said as I walked through.

"You betcha." I passed her by without slowing, finding two doors in the back. Huh. Feels like "The Lady Or The Tiger". I knocked on the door to the left furiously. "Hello?"

The door opened as the receptionist caught up with me to find Sofia Lamb looking me in the eyes. "Well. Mr. Jacobs."

"Dr. Lamb, I am SO sorry, I couldn't stop him…" the receptionist said apologetically, and I detected a definite twinge of fear.

"It's quite all right," she said without turning her gaze away, "Mr. Jacobs is welcome here anytime. Please, Mr. Jacobs, come in."

Time to find out if I'd picked the Lady or the Tiger on this one. I walked into the office, noting the bookshelves, the desk and seat positioning. Everything was laid out perfectly to make the people sitting across from Lamb to feel vulnerable and safe with her, impressed by her presence. I sat down in the seat directly across from her and smiled. "So, in the immortal words of a great philosopher…'what's up, doc?'"

She sat down, that calm smile still on her face. "Why have you come here, Mr. Jacobs?"

"Well, I thought you'd like to know how Eleanor is doing. After all, she is your daughter."

Her smile didn't even flicker. "Eleanor was lost to me the moment she chose to reject her true purpose, as you well know."

"She's fine, by the way, at college and pursuing her dream...which, as it turns out, is pursuing a career in genetics. Working on finding ways to make the world a better place. She's already working on a thesis involving gene therapy as a means to eradicate cancer. So, as it turned out, Eleanor still became someone who's probably going to make the world a better place, and it's something she chose to do on her own."

Lamb smiled wider, and I knew she was doing that to help hide the frown behind it. "I am gratified that she shall make some small use of her potential. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"Not really. I figured you had a right to know, and I thought you were in sort of a hurry to find out what happened after Elizabeth and I came back. Apparently I was mistaken...about the 'hurry' part. I didn't realize that you were such a patient person."

"Psychiatry is never a get-well-quick process. It takes care and determination to achieve long-lasting results. Sometimes, the healing can take years, depending upon the depths of the mental trauma experienced."

I had a feeling she wasn't just talking about psychiatry anymore. "Sounds like you've been influencing a lot of troubled people here in Rapture. Not hard to believe, considering what happened."

"There have been many hurt and traumatized by what Ryan did." She leaned back in her chair. "You might even benefit from being under my care."

"I'll think about it...but, all things considered, I think I'm pretty healthy."

"Perhaps...but in this, the ones who need my help the most are usually the ones who believe themselves the most healthy." She smiled. "It would be a privilege to have you as my patient."

"A generous offer, but I think I'll pass for now. The only person I want inside my head is my wife." I got up. "Thanks for your time."

As I walked out, I heard her ask, "Why did you come here today, Mr. Jacobs? Surely you're not...concerned about something? I read in the papers that you were attacked in your home. That must've have been quite alarming."

I turned to look at her. "Wasn't exactly the first time it's happened. Oh, that reminds me." I reached into my pocket and took out the pin, tossing it onto her desk. I looked at her face carefully as she saw it.

There it was. The flicker of recognition. That was the tell I'd been looking for.

"I just wanted to make sure that reached the rightful owner. You know what to do with it, don't you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said, the barest hint in her voice. Defensive.

"Sure you don't."

And with that, I left. After all, first rule of putting on a show: always leave them wanting more.

* * *

I met up with Elizabeth back at the office. She'd been there for a while, writing down information in some folders. "Where've you been?" she asked without looking up.

"Following up on a lead. Went to go talk to Sofia Lamb. Didn't stay long, just long enough to feel her out."

"And…?"

"The doctor clearly needs a little of the 'physician, heal thyself'. I told her about how well Eleanor was doing and she responded the same way most people would respond if I told them how well my dog was doing in obedience school." I shook my head. "Seriously disturbing."

"I found out more. Dr. Lamb has been doing some nut-gathering. Look at this. Milton has been noticing patterns in the kinds of information Dr. Lamb has been seeking out. Point Prometheus. Suchong's lab in Olympus Heights. Fontaine Futuristics. Tennenbaum's labs."

"What kind of information?"

Elizabeth looked up at me. "Behavioral modification."

"Wait...that doesn't make any sense. The people in Rapture have been cured. ADAM won't have any effect on them anymore. So if someone tried using some ADAM-based whammy on them, it'll have about as much effect on them as Vitamin D milk."

"I know. But that's what she's doing, and I don't think her interest in this is casual. We need to know more about this."

I nodded. "Well, there IS one option, but you're probably not going to like it."

"Try me."

"Well, she DID extend an open invite to come back and be treated…"

"You're right."

I blinked. "Then I should do it?"

"No. You're right about me not liking it. You have no idea what mental gymnastics she could put you through, ESPECIALLY if one of the tricks she's looking to perfect is that 'mind-control' research. Forget it. Risky isn't the word for it."

I had to admit, talking with Dr. Lamb made me feel like Perseus dealing with the three hags sharing an eye. "So stay away from her."

"Bingo. You got lucky this time, she was off-balance. But don't forget that she's spent a couple of decades learning how to read and manipulate people. The more time you spend around her, the more she learns about what makes you tick. Don't antagonize or underestimate her."

I nodded. "Okay. What could she do with that information?"

Elizabeth considered for a few moments. "She can't use that influence to use ADAM to influence people here in Rapture. So either she's trying to influence people here using other means...or she's planning to try to affect people outside of Rapture using ADAM, since we still have a means of gathering it here."

"We DO?"

"Yes, but since the need for it is a bare fraction of the need for it that used to be required, the slugs that were the original source of it are gathered and harvested from around Rapture."

"Wait...back up a second. Are these slugs...native to this part of the ocean?"

"That's...still something of a mystery." Elizabeth went to a file cabinet and pulled out a rather bulky-looking file. "Here's everything I pulled up on the slugs. The Thinker helped considerably. We're sure the slugs aren't found anywhere else. Expeditions to search for them in the Atlantic have turned up nothing, and they're never found more than fifteen miles away from the city."

I remembered something I saw a long time ago. "Elizabeth...when I was making my way through Persephone a long time ago, I saw that there was some sort of luminescence outside...coming from some sort of fissure. Anyone ever figure out what that was?"

"To be honest, I couldn't say. But we have more important things to think about right now."

As she pulled out another file, I made a mental reminder to look into that, because it seemed really odd that we had a city full of scientists and nobody thought that might be important. Odd even for Rapture. "All right, so the fact remains that we need proof. IIf Dr. Lamb is stockpiling ADAM, we need to be sure of it."

Elizabeth considered. "ADAM is organic, which means it needs to stored under certain conditions, or it will eventually degrade. If Lamb needs to store large quantities of it for what she plans to do with it, she needs to be working with someone with resources...and i think I know who." She handed me a file on Gil Alexander. "Took possession of Fontaine Futuristics after Ryan was arrested. He was in a high-level position, since he was instrumental in making parts for the Thinker, the security systems, the Protector Program for the Big Daddies…"

"Why didn't he get investigated?"

"Because he wasn't really offered a choice on who he worked for. Both Fontaine and Ryan bullied him into working for them." Elizabeth shook her head. "A person like that would be fertile soil for whatever Dr. Lamb has in mind for him. And knowing Lamb, she wouldn't have any scruples about using him. But...we need proof."

I nodded. "Well then, it seems clear to me what we have to do. We go in with a research camera, find the ADAM reserves and take plenty of pictures."

"Are you saying that we find some way to get into a building run by a man who _designed_ Rapture's security, find the ADAM reserves that we can't be sure are there, and leave without being caught?"

"That's the plan."

Elizabeth stared at me, then ran over to me and kissed me FEROCIOUSLY. I smiled inside.

It's always an important part of a romantic relationship to know what excites your spouse.

.

.

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TO BE CONTINUED….


End file.
